


Not Like This

by paintstroke



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha!Shiro, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Consent Issues, Consequences, Dubious Consent, Facials, Fingering, Frottage, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Omega Verse, Regret, Rutting, Self-Denial, Sex, Smut, Suppressed Feelings, Telepathic Bond, Unsafe Sex, altered states of mind, cameo: ensemble, heat - Freeform, worry about consequences later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintstroke/pseuds/paintstroke
Summary: It was supposed to be a training exercise.  With more paladins than Lions, there would be an advantage in being able to form Voltron in different configurations - and the first step was to practice the telepathic bonds. If they can mentally form Voltron using the Altean headpieces, then maybe they can switch pilots. It was supposed to be an easy test.But then again, no one expected Shiro to go into rut...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hiya! I had a lot of fun practicing writing omegaverse for the Voltron A/B/O Zine (links below!) and this was one scenario that blew past the wordcount for either the print or digital version. 
> 
> Part II will be up by Thursday at the latest. <3

* * *

“I don’t see why we have to do this again anyway,” Keith grumbled. The edges of the Altean headpiece pressed uncomfortably into his temples. He’d been irritable for quintants now, and this shitty, pointless exercise wasn’t helping him bite back his temper at all. He felt the buzz as the mental link activated, the room seeming… well, not larger exactly, but deeper, like the visual world was simply the surface of the ocean. The other paladins shone like beacons, complicated tangles of internal thoughts barely contained to their auras. 

“Yeah? Or are you just afraid to have us look into your head-hole now that you’re with the Blades? Got lots of new Galra secrets?” Lance bobbed his eyebrows at Keith, jabbing an elbow into Hunk’s side to try to get the other in on the teasing. 

Keith twitched and bit back his first crude response. “Can you see what I’m thinking right now?” he snarled. Under his breath he added in, “Asshole.” 

Lance laughed, content with having gotten under Keith’s skin. 

Keith sighed and looked away, not particularly proud of how easily provoked he was today. He caught Shiro’s glance by mistake. The piercing look in Shiro’s eyes froze Keith. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed, knowing that Shiro expected him to be better than this pettiness. He dropped his eyes to the side, distracted with guilt. It was easier to shoulder the weight of his irritation when he knew he wasn’t expected to be the leader, but he knew Shiro would want more from him. He sighed, and tried to keep the guilt and shame and fear from spilling out through the mental link. 

Maybe he didn’t entirely succeed, because Hunk patted his leg sympathetically. 

He tried to focus. 

_Calm. Wind blowing dust devils across the scrubby desert. The smell of hot coffee. A tin cup burning his fingertips. Peace._

“We’ve been through a lot and we’ve all struggled in places,” Allura said, her clipped accent barely disguising her frustration with the slow progress. Her eyebrow twitched as she settled her own headpiece. 

“Being able to form Voltron with different pilots will certainly be an advantage,” Coran stepped smoothly in as he paced around the outside of the circle. “The first phase will be being able to do it mentally - if we can get this to just click into place here, then perhaps the Lions will still respond –or at least won’t put up particle barriers if we switch pilots. After all; your quintessence has multiple facets to it… it may be just a matter of tapping into different strengths for each Lion…” 

Keith’s eyebrow twitched and his vision of his desert shack wavered. They all knew why they were doing this - Coran didn’t always need to _talk_ so much...

Pidge grinned excitedly. “And we can also see what other tech materializes!” Her hopes were transparent, even without her bared thoughts. 

Hunk gave her a high five.

Keith almost rolled his eyes. There was no promise that this would even help. If they wanted to get better at fighting, then they should _fight_ \- not just sit around strengthening imaginary bonds. It wasn’t like they were lacking opponents. So far each time they’d faced a robeast they’d gotten more weapons as they needed them. Every time they’d really needed Voltron they’d somehow managed to form up – he really doubted this would help. 

He gritted his teeth and tried to clear his mind. He pushed a questioning cloud towards Shiro. Shiro had always the easiest to bond with thanks to their shared history. But now Shiro was sitting there with a strange look on his face, and Keith felt the slight edge of fear that he’d overstepped in joining in, that, despite his reassurances, Shiro would look at him differently now too. Even if the words were etched into his heart, he wasn’t ready to see that Shiro thought the Paladins were better off without Keith. 

When the edges of his mental touch brushed against Shiro, all the air was suddenly knocked out of his chest.

* * *

Usually the things the paladins managed to transmit across the mental link were weak images, rather than powerful emotions and it was one thing to be aware that a certain percentage of the population would sometimes go into rut. It was a different thing entirely to feel it, through your bones, through your teeth, that visceral tangle of need and dominance and possessiveness.

The rutting instinct was focused with laser-precision. Keith was shocked enough to drop his defensive barriers. It was too deep an invasion, his thoughts laid so bare. Everyone there witnessed the slow unfurling of Keith’s thoughts - a sort of shock, that dissolved into a shy disbelief, pleased consent with the seeds of what could be joy, muted by the stunned surprise. It would be sweet, if it wasn’t for the undertones. The quiet desperation. The willingness to go along with anything, any sign that his feelings were reciprocated.

* * *

Shared memories had begun to flood the link before the other paladins bolted; not needing to see two of their own sharing such intimate, pining moments.

“Woah!” Hunk practically threw his headset across the room. “That did not need to get thrust into my head-hole. Nope, NOT in mine!” 

Pidge took hers off with a very carefully blank look. “Well, Shiro is not a beta,” she stated dryly, though they’d all known that on some level before. 

“Damn,” Lance whispered. He placed his headset in front of him on the floor, heat rising high on his cheeks as he looked from Keith to Shiro and back. 

Coran’s hand was outstretched as he paused behind Shiro. “Should I subdue him?” he stage-whispered, not entirely sure. Because he’d been left out of the telepathic circle, he’d been left unaware of the deeper level of voyeurism. 

Glances passed between everyone - everyone except for Shiro and Keith, whose eyes remained locked on each other, oblivious to the rest of the room. 

“Uh… Keith said.. Said? Thought? He’s fine with it, might be better to let them…” Pidge broke off with a grimace. 

“Work it out.” Hunk finished, setting hands to Pidge’s shoulder and walking them both towards the door. 

Pidge made a face. “Is there Altean brain bleach? I really need brain bleach after this.”

“Shiro and Keith? Really?! _Keith?!_ ” Lance had managed to regain his sense of speech, and was staring at Shiro again, still slightly flabbergasted. 

Neither Shiro nor Keith were responding to anyone else in the room anymore. 

“Uh, Princess... We should probably give Shiro and Keith some space…” Lance reached up to lift Allura’s headpiece off when the Altean didn’t move. Allura seemed transfixed by the scene in front of her. 

“Yeah… best to leave, unless you want…. um...” 

Pidge, Lance, and Hunk exchanged glances, not entirely sure how to explain this to the Princess and Coran. But they gave it their best go as they backed out of the training room. “Could be worse! Could have an omega among us - heats last for days!”

“...quiznak.”

* * *

Dizzying _want_ surged through his veins.

Everything in the room had gone dim; nothing mattered but Shiro. Nothing but him and Shiro. Dimly he realized the others were clearing out, someone shook his shoulder but he ignored it, he’d be fine.

_Rut._

Hell, back at the Garrison, he remembered one time when Shiro’s suppressants failed, and they spent the evening sparring, Shiro channelling the lust into violence. They’d ended up bruised, bloody, and exhausted on the floor together, the rut dissipating soon after it set in. The bone-weary embarrassment-turned-laughter had been just another chapter in their friendship. 

But to feel it like this... 

The desire was overwhelming. Keith struggled against it in shock. The emotions slammed into him, churning through the mental connection. They rushed over him, unstoppable. There was a sensation of breaking the surface; he struggled for air.

Keith forced his eyes open again, fighting the way that his heart started racing. “Shiro…” he whispered, throat going dry. 

From what he could tell, Shiro wasn’t quite in a state where he could be rational. 

His name seemed to be a lure, though. Shiro slowly uncurled his powerful body from his seated position. He stood, and started stalking towards Keith. There wasn’t another word for those purposeful movements. 

Shiro’s grey eyes burned bright with a ferocious intensity. From somewhere distant in the castle, the lions roared. Keith felt uncoordinated in the wake of the overpowering lust. His body reacted without him consciously directing it. He’d crawled forward a few steps before he realized it. 

Shiro’s hands were demanding, pulling him up to stand.

Keith’s eyes went wide as his own desire was fed back through their mental bond. He wasn’t sure if he could spar feeling like this. Halfheartedly he brought his hands up, somehow only managing to steady himself by gripping onto Shiro’s biceps. 

His heartbeat turned frantic; Shiro leaned forward. _Shiro was going to kiss him._ Keith froze, inner organs in freefall. He wanted that so badly. But like this? 

But Shiro bypassed his lips, instead pressing his own into Keith’s neck. “You smell so good,” he said, voice husky enough to make Keith’s knees weaken. 

With powerful steps he walked Keith backward. Keith flowed with the movements until his shoulder blades hit the wall. 

Shiro’s hands tangled tightly in Keith’s hair. Keith let out a small cry as Shiro pulled sharply. His throat was exposed. His body went slack in response, and Shiro slipped a broad thigh between his own. Keith’s body melted into the support. Pheromones, he thought blearily as he gave in to the desire, grinding forward against the thigh that held him trapped. 

Pheromones, and the fact that he felt like he’d wanted this for forever. 

“Oh.” 

The small bit of friction felt amazing. The gasp Keith made was echoed, Shiro’s forehead falling forward against the wall, his grip loosening slightly on Keith’s hair. Boldened, Keith pushed his hips in lazy arcs, panting in time with Shiro as they shared the sensation through the Altean headpieces.

Shiro nuzzled forward at his temple, bringing his own hips forward. Keith’s eyes widened when he felt how hard Shiro was against him. Fuck. 

“Knew you’d respond to me,” Shiro rasped as he thrust lazily into Keith’s hip. “Always knew you’d be so good like this. So good for me.”

Keith closed his eyes, trying to clamp down on his rising satisfaction before it leapt through the headpiece. The words didn’t feel like Shiro. And if Shiro hadn’t initiated anything without a rut, Keith really shouldn’t trust that this was anything. Keith knew he should leave. But he was never very good at doing what he should when it ran against what he wanted… 

The grey of Shiro’s eyes had nearly been swallowed by his pupils. 

“Shiro…” Keith managed, mentally thrashing about to find words when gripped deep in the lust’s undertow. 

There was a struggle behind Shiro’s eyes, but he drew back. 

Keith searched Shiro’s face, bringing his hands up to cup either side of Shiro’s jaw, fingers just shy of the headpiece neither had bothered to remove. Shiro let him, the alpha tense with the supreme concentration it took to fight off the instincts stirred up by his rut. If Shiro could be that much in control… 

He wanted to make sure Shiro understood. 

“This is what I want.” Keith said, in his determined, black-or-white way. It was that simple. Distantly, Keith felt still regret, the faint thought that this should be something special, somewhere precious, some other situation not tied to Shiro’s alpha nature, and Keith tried to clear his sadness from their mindlink. 

Still visibly struggling, Shiro nodded and leaned in close, letting Keith’s hands pull him forward. For a pregnant moment Shiro paused, close enough that they were sharing the same breath. His lips lightly brushed Keith’s, softer than Keith would have guessed. Than he had imagined. Keith froze, uncertain. Shiro’s lips kept moving, not increasing the pressure like Keith might have expected, but staying delicate, plush and teasing as they ghosted over Keith’s. Keith leaned into it, copying the soft movements. A part of him died when he felt the smooth tip of Shiro’s tongue trace his lower lip. 

Satisfaction flooded over the mindlink, and he felt heavier emotions crushing down on it. _Want. Need. Lust._ He could feel how his clumsy attempts to echo Shiro’s movements sparked a thrill, even as his own blood surged. He was delirious with the strange new sensations, letting Shiro take what he wanted, tentatively exploring in the pauses, tiny intimate forays. Shiro’s teeth lightly caught his lower lip and Keith sucked in an unsteady breath, practically panting. The scratch of stubble against his chin was a mild discomfort, and his only reassurance that this as actually happening.

Keith barely moved, trying to burn each moment deeply into his memories. 

Shiro’s hand was an unbreakable force. He pulled Keith’s hand to his cock, stroking up and down. Keith nearly froze again, than almost kicked himself. Rut. That was why this was happening. The tenderness was nice… unexpected, and fleeting. Keith twisted so that he could get his own grip, taking over. Shiro’s hand still encased his, demanding he follow the rhythm Shiro wanted. 

Shiro’s lips moved over Keith’s, “Say that you’re mine.”

It wasn’t a question. Keith trembled. He leaned his forehead against Shiro’s. “Yeah. Yours,” Keith agreed shakily, telling himself that the words were just to placate the alpha instincts. 

Shiro gave a broken moan, body shuddering. His hands tangled in Keith’s hair again, and he was shifting his leg out of the way to give Keith some space. 

“Show me,” Shiro demanded, something fierce sparking to light in his eyes in a way that he would never allow in other situations. Shiro put more and more weight into his hands, guiding Keith downwards.

The need to obey was so overpowering. Keith dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain that stabbed up from the hard floor. He pressed forward, dizzy with the pheromones, nuzzling into the front of Shiro’s pants. He could be so good, he could show Shiro.

Shiro’s hand loosened over Keith’s, finally letting Keith take some control. Keith pushed his fingers up the heavy bulge of Shiro’s arousal, trying to grip it through the material. He looked up, through his bangs, ready to ask a question.

Shiro was looked down at him like he wanted to memorize every movement. His expression was surreal; the hard angles of his face gone soft with desire. 

Quickly, Keith busied his fingers with the clasps, suddenly feeling clumsy and unsure. He pushed underneath, feeling the heat of Shiro’s body through a very thin layer of undergarments. 

His mouth was dry. Shiro was so thick. With a swallow, Keith licked his lips, inspired by his own nerves rather than trying to tease. 

He pulled Shiro out, sure the alpha could feel him shaking as he did so. Shiro’s skin felt so hot against his hands. Tentatively, Keith tried to make a fist around it, feeling uncomfortably small. He pushed his hand lower, gently stroking from the tip, watching as the head of Shiro’s cock emerged from his foreskin, flushed dark already. He leaned closer, opening his mouth, but hesitated. Through the mindlink he could almost feel it; hot breath, teasing, so close to what he -no, what Shiro- wanted. Shiro twitched, and Keith smiled, feeling like maybe he had a bit more power than he’d thought. But this close the scent of Shiro was so overwhelming. He pressed his face into Shiro’s groin, just breathing for a moment, derailed by how much he wanted that scent to be all over his own skin.

Shiro made a sort of pained sound above him, and Keith felt his fingers tighten in his hair. 

The scent and those sounds were going to drive Keith crazy. His mouth was watering. At least that was good for something. He looked up once, needing some encouragement. Shiro’s intense gaze lit his body on fire, and the last bits of Keith’s self-restraint burned away. He wrapped both hands around Shiro, hesitating as he felt the different texture along Shiro’s shaft, the hidden pockets that could swell into a mating knot.

The delay edged into dangerous territory. The telepathic link flared with explicit thoughts of how Shiro would take Keith, the distorted point of view and vaguely content enough to take away Keith’s breath for a moment. The weight of knowing that Shiro _could_ think like that was crushing. Too much. Too soon. If they did go further, Keith wanted Shiro to remember every moment of it. He focused, and shoved as much of an idea of ‘I want you here like this’ as he could at Shiro, padding it out with the thoughts that were supposed to soothe rutting alphas. Keith began tracing his way up the veins, lips and teeth teasing Shiro as he hesitantly began to stroke. If he could make this fulfilling enough maybe they could do something else once Shiro came down from the rut...

Keith was a beta, but right now he wanted to touch himself so badly he was throbbing like an omega. With both his hands on Shiro though… Keith shifted so that his knees bracketed Shiro’s foot, tentatively rocking forward against Shiro’s leg. 

He moaned. Shiro tensed above him and fingers dug into his hair as Shiro gasped. “Yeah,” Shiro encouraged him, the mental images he sent more eloquent than the words he could manage.

Keith thrust absently against Shiro’s leg, letting his own hips find a rhythm with his tongue and hands. He felt so close already. The echoes in the mental link sent fireworks sparking down his spine, drowned his thoughts in a haze of needy thoughts. All that mattered was the pleasure.

And it was so overwhelming. Just so much. Feeling the desire pooling in Shiro, the rush of a touch, the double-vision sensation and grinding against Shiro’s legs, the feel of lips around himself…

With a muffled noise, emphasized mostly for Shiro’s benefit, Keith came, stiffening against Shiro. He panted around the crown of Shiro’s cock. Shiro was already stuttering out moans, the mindlink letting Keith feel sated and locked into the orgasmic buildup all at once.  
It was confusing and liberating all at once. He let Shiro’s hands show him, covering his own, trapping their fingers together as Shiro chose the pace, forced Keith’s grip tighter over the beginnings of his knot. 

Keith tried to take more in his mouth, jaw aching and choking awkwardly when he tried too much but he wanted, oh how he wanted. With hands slick with saliva he encouraged Shiro’s release. 

With a determined growl Keith fought to stay when Shiro half-heartedly attempted to push him back. Keith swallowed as Shiro moaned. He jerked forward, unprepared for the taste or volume, and Shiro finally managed to shift his hips back, holding Keith’s hand in place over his knot as the last few streaks of fluid hit Keith’s face and neck.

Deep, intense satisfaction flooded through the link. 

Keith sat there for a moment, dazzled by the afterglow, the rutting hormones making it deeper and more sustained than his own. 

Strong arms reached down, pulled him up, kissed him fiercely even as Keith tried to avoid it. “I just…” Keith protested half-heartedly as he managed to turn away a little. 

Shiro growled. There was a sort of possessiveness there that made Keith preen. Shiro pulled Keith closer, hugging him, wrapping him in warmth. Keith was pretty sure he caught Shiro scenting him, testing the way they smelled together. 

They stayed like that for a bit too long. 

Keith’s heartbeat was going to strangle him. “Shiro…” he whispered. “If you wanted to… we could do more…” he offered. 

A sense of possessive pride bloomed, before it was yanked from the shared mental space, as Shiro’s mind seemed to clear. A sense of genuine regret spilled over in it’s place. 

“Oh, _fuck,”_ Shiro finally broke the silence, and the tone made Keith’s heart shatter and crash to the floor around his ankles. “Oh god, Keith, I am so sorry…”

Keith’s eyebrows twitched and he pulled back enough to force Shiro to look at him. The blush on Shiro’s face deepened, and he wiped at the fluid on Keith’s face hurriedly. Keith leaned into the tender fingers like a cat. “Don’t be.” Keith countered, as firm as he could be despite his racing heart and tangled thoughts. He hoped that his bluntness would counter Shiro’s tendency towards self-immolation. “If I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have done that.” He let it show on his face. “You know I want this…” 

Shiro let his head drop back towards the wall. They stood in silence for another few seconds that stretched on into forever. 

“I know…” Shiro said softly. “I’m still sorry.”

Unsteadily, Keith’s hand went to the alien headpiece. He lifted it, and feared what would happen. if this had just been triggered by the rut, just feeling an echo of what Shiro had been feeling…

He felt more alone in his head. But the sense of fondness and affection that he’d always felt for Shiro was there. The desire for something more… that was definitely still there, and felt like it had grown and escaped whatever deep dark well Keith had tried to drown it in. That was his. Maybe only his, he realized, stomach twisting. 

“Give me a minute,” Shiro whispered.

Keith tried to choke his hope too, because hope led to little but pain. He pulled away, drawing back into himself. 

It was hard to tear his eyes away as Shiro straightened his clothing, made himself more presentable.

Keith set his headpiece into the recessed holder, and reached out for Shiro’s. He silently picked up the others left scattered around the room as Shiro came to terms with the lingering effects of the hormone surge. 

“That shouldn’t have happened…” Shiro started brokenly, trying to explain. Trying to erase what they’d done. 

Keith shrugged. 

Shiro looked at the door. “Why didn’t anyone stop me?” his voice was small. Someone should have stepped in. 

Keith’s eyes widened as he realized just how much of his internal desires must have been transmitted throughout the room. “Fuck.” he muttered. “Probably because…” he covered his mouth. “Because I wanted it…” he admitted. 

Shiro looked to Keith. “That wasn’t…. I mean… it wasn’t my choice…” Shiro grabbed at his own hair as he tried to build his own person back up around himself. “I’d never want to force myself on…”

Keith’s skin screamed at him to hug Shiro close, comfort him. Somehow he knew that wouldn’t be welcomed, so he struggled to find the words. “You didn’t.” And then something clicked further. “I should have stopped you,” Keith whispered, an admission of his own guilt. “But... I thought you meant it. It _felt_ like you meant it.” And then all of a sudden his vision was blurring and fuck that because he wasn’t going to cry. “So, yeah. I’m sorry too.” It took all of Keith’s ragged sense of control to get those words out without bitterness, without wavering. “I’m gonna go… shower…”

“Keith–” Shiro called. 

Keith froze by the door, shoulders knotting together uncomfortably. “Can we talk later?” Keith asked through gritted teeth, tone dull with the implications settling around him. He needed to figure out his own thoughts. Maybe he could wallow in disgust with himself until the Blades rendezvoused and then slink away from Voltron forever. 

Shiro’s voice softened. “Yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little later than I had thought it'd be (sorry!)... but Part II is here! :)

* * *

Part II.

For the first time since he entered the castle, Keith found himself wishing for more than a standard military-thin blanket. It wasn’t that it was cold in the room. But he really wanted to cocoon himself up in comfort and pretend that the last few hours never happened. Life would be better with thick layers between him and the world. He jammed his arms around his pillow and curled around it. It was a poor substitute.

He felt sick to his stomach as he replayed what happened again and again in his mind. His privacy felt flayed open, and more and more he couldn’t believe that he’d just let Shiro… and everyone knew.

Eyes squeezed tightly closed, Keith told himself that anyone else might have done the same. He could maybe, maybe be forgiven for misreading the situation, for hoping that the rut was revealing deeper feelings. It wasn’t as if he particularly liked that kind of romance trope. He’d never been one to wish he was alpha or omega so that he could be swept away by a scent or lost to a heat. He’d known people who had glamorized the loss of control, spun shiny stories about passionate love and soulmates.

It was sickening to him now. Definitely more of a horror, or a tragedy. _The hopeful idiot violates trust and body of best friend._

He groaned, dizzy with self-loathing, throwing himself onto his back and flinging an arm up across his eyes, trying to block out the room around him.

He was definitely sick. He was shaky. He was weak. How long had it been since he had been able to keep food down? One day? Two? He shouldn’t have been at training at all. Maybe if he’d have been stronger going in…

It went deeper than just a momentary weakness though.

Worst of all, he was still hard.

He wanted _more_ so badly. If he didn’t concentrate on something else intently, his brain wouldn’t stop cycling through ideas about what could-have-been. This definitely wasn’t the time, or the place, and he should really just get up already, pretend everything was as fine as it could be, and let the onslaught of Lance and Hunk’s teasing just kill him.

The craving to have Shiro next to him was nearly physically overwhelming. How did others turn off these thoughts? Was it just because he gave in to what he wanted at that moment? The memory of Shiro’s desire haunted him.

The heat from his shower seemed to linger, making the room feel oppressive and humid, but Keith still wanted the blanket around him. He still needed that shield between himself and the outside world.

The guilt wasn’t enough to strangle the visceral memories. He couldn’t stop feeling the dominating control of Shiro’s hands tugging his head back, the sensation of Shiro’s plush lips against his own. The feel of Shiro in his mouth… Each memory sent fire through his veins.

Keith’s hand was shaking as he reached down, slowly slipping inside his pyjama pants. He was just doing this so he could get to sleep, he told himself, insides twisting. He didn’t _like_ what had happened.

He shifted his body against the bed, pressing his back against the wall as if the solid structure had the weight of another person.

He could get through this.

* * *

Someone knocked.

Keith flinched, yanking his hand back up to his chest. He struggled to pull his mind together.

“Yeah?” he called out gruffly, not particularly wanting to see anyone. Ever again.

“Hey, Keith, you ok?”

Shiro. Keith’s mind spiralled south fast. _Shiro._

“Uh-” Keith shut his eyes, trying to remember how to use words. His imagination helpfully tried to fill in images instead. _Fuck,_ Keith thought, but that wasn’t quite right.

“Keith?” The voice at the door sounded wary. Keith’s eyes snapped open and he wondered if his thoughts had been overheard.

He squeezed his eyes shut again. He didn’t want to face this reality. “N-not ok. Just gonna lie down for a little more-”

“Keith please…” Shiro asked.

“Tomorrow?” Keith bartered. If he could delay maybe it didn’t have to be real.

“Just let me in? For a moment? We need to talk...”

Keith panicked a little. This would look terrible. He swore at his hormones, even almost being caught didn’t dent his aroused state. He settled for silence. Let Shiro think he was avoiding it. Even that was better...

An electronic trill marked an unsuccessful attempt at overriding the door lock.

“Ok then.” There was a muffled thump from the hallway, and Keith could almost picture Shiro leaning against the other side of the door. “I can talk from out here. I need to say this. You need to hear this. Keith, you mean so much to me. You know that. You have to know how much I care about you.”

‘Just not in that way,’ Keith mouthed, staring at the bunk’s ceiling.

Shiro surprised him though. “So when I went into rut,” Shiro’s voice wavered and struggled across the word, “there was a reason I wanted you.” He laughed, low and Keith could almost see his embarrassment. “Lots of reasons actually.” There was a pause. “You’ve always been there for me,” Shiro started again, more hesitantly. “And I wasn’t… unaware of how you felt, even before this afternoon.”

Keith waited, embarrassment heating his face. It had never made sense to him to hide his emotions, but maybe he should rethink that.

Shiro sighed. Keith wondered if the thud was the back of his head hitting the door. “I didn’t know I could still go into rut, to be honest. I haven’t, not since I escaped the Galra. If I’d known… everything would have been different. I would have been more prepared. I’m so sorry. You should know that Coran’s working with a medical AI to see if there’s something that could be used as a suppressant.”

No repeats then, Keith translated, trying to keep his emotions carefully neutral. No further embarrassments, for either of them. _No second chances._ The last thought felt so dark and twisted. It wasn’t him, Keith tried to clear his mind. He didn’t need Shiro like that.

“And if that doesn’t work, well, I sat with everyone else. They’re now aware of how I feel about consent during my rut. I think I got through to them.” Shiro sighed, and Keith vaguely recalled Shiro lecturing at the Garrison. It tugged at his heart a bit. Those had been simpler times. Shiro had had an easier smile back when he wore that olive-grey uniform. Fantasies of discipline sessions, of being pinned down over a Garrison desk drifted into his mind, and Keith realized that as his thoughts were drifting his hand was stroking lower...

Ugh. Not what he needed. He couldn’t concentrate from his bed. Keith grabbed his blanket and slowly picked his way across the room. He curled against the inside of the door, still too humiliated to open it, but needing to be closer. What had Shiro been saying? Things were going fuzzy. He really needed to get his mind under control. The others, lectures… “It’s not their fault though,” he pointed out as he settled.

“No,” Shiro agreed with another sigh. “It’s on me.”

“And me.” Keith fired back immediately, unwilling to let Shiro blame himself. The familiar defensiveness helped a little. Maybe he wasn’t quite so focused on the fact that only a thin sheet of Altean building structure was separating his thighs from Shiro’s...

Shiro hesitated. “No. This is on me. Even before I went into rut... I should have been more responsible. I’m trying to be a leader, but... I should have talked to everyone about this long ago. You’re all young…”

Keith frowned at that. “Not that much younger than you.”

“But none of you had much experience with this on Earth, where everything is set up to help people deal with these types of urges… I don’t know. You get a sense of what’s acceptable and what’s not, but you need proper examples, and they need to be there when scents change and heats happen and one’s mature enough to actually feel the power behind the biology, not just read about it in a textbook. None of you have that type of experience yet, not in the context of adult relationships.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “That’s unfair.” The irritation from the last few days was beginning to creep back under his skin.

“Maybe,” Shiro allowed. “But what happened still happened.”

‘Yeah.” It was hard to hold onto any anger in the face of that. Keith sank against the door, fingers idly tracing the physical barrier between him and Shiro. He sat with his thoughts for a moment. Maybe he would survive this after all. Hopefully after the lecture the teasing from the others wouldn’t be so bad. And if he was going to survive… well he wasn’t ready to bury his feelings without _knowing_. “Shiro?”

“Mm?”

“Are you angry with me?”

“What? No, Keith. No.”

“You could be. I understand. I deserve it.” His guilt hadn’t let up.

“No. Look. it was a grey situation… it wasn’t ideal. Not for either of us. It’s probably best that we acknowledge that there are feelings there between us, and what happened was… not the best way to express that. And we move past it.”

Keith was silent for a while. _Feelings between them._ That phrase was going to be seared into his mind. He couldn’t just shove that aside. “Is there any chance for more between us?” Keith held his breath as Shiro shifted.

“It’s not really the best time, Keith…” Shiro said, his non-answer gentle. “We can’t know what’s going to happen with this war.”

Keith swallowed. Shiro had always been so tangled in what sounded right. Shiro had never been selfish, not like him. “Wouldn’t it be better to use whatever time we have?” he asked, skirting dangerously close to pleading.

“It’s not that simple…” Shiro answered. “There’s so much more than just our feelings to think about and…” he evaded again, trailing off. “Are you sure I can’t come inside? I’d feel better speaking face to face…”

Keith didn’t know if he had the energy to pick himself up off of the base of the door. That didn’t sound good. “Yeah, fine,” he agreed listlessly. Better to rip the bandage off quickly. Maybe the finality would get rid of his recent obsessive thoughts. He looked over at the bare mattress. He fully expected to be isolating himself here for a while after they talked. And he still wanted... “Could you bring some blankets with you?”

Shiro paused. “Okay…” he drew out the word with confusion. “I’ll be right back.”

Keith heard Shiro push off, head down the hall, and staggered to his own feet. He unlocked the door and practically fell back into the bed. He pressed his back against the wall, staring at the door and preemptively stacking barricades between himself and hope.

 

* * *

 

When the door opened again, Keith squinted at the light from the hallway, struggling to see through the rough shag of his hair and around his upper arm, too tired and delirious to lift his head fully from the pillow. Instead of sobering his thoughts, the sight of Shiro walking towards his bed was almost a physical punch. His planned defensive-offence derailed.

Shiro was never one to seem vulnerable without his armor, but the castle’s sleepwear gave him a soft look. And… they were clothes that would be just so easy to tug off... Keith’s thoughts quickly narrowed to what was in front of him. He’d been planning to say something…

By the bed, Shiro breathed out, frozen and looking like he was prepared to back out of the room and rethink talking face to face. Embarrassment coloured his features and he held the blankets out in front of him like an offering.

The moment stretched too long without any words. Keith swallowed. He made the obvious decision. Keith reached out but his hand was ignored. Shiro dropped the blankets on the bed, crowding forcefully into Keith’s space. One heavy thigh swung over Keith, pinning him to the bed, right where Keith wanted Shiro to be. Keith tossed his head a bit to get his hair out of his wide eyes. It was a battle - he wanted to shut his eyes and just _feel_ but he didn’t want to miss a moment. This wasn’t… he didn’t expect… that can’t have been why Shiro wanted to come in....?

“You…” There really was something they were supposed to say.

“You need me…” Shiro asserted.

Shiro was reaching down for him, and he could get used to this, because the touch of Shiro’s hand on his arm, sliding across his skin, was electric. It felt so right. It charged him up, the ennui burning away, every hair on the back of his arm rising.

“Keith…” Shiro’s voice was rough over his name.

His name - from his alpha. “Shiro.” Keith pressed his head back into his pillow, arching his chest up, practically begging for touch.

Other words had stuttered out of existence. Concepts beyond need threatened to slip beyond his grasp.

He needed to be...

Keith threw his head back with a desperate gasp of air, panting, trying to remind himself of who he was. He was _Keith._ He did _not_ need touch. He did not _need_ anyone.

“God, Keith,” Shiro mumbled, hands gentle along Keith’s sides, and Keith’s thoughts fled in their wake. Keith pressed up into the touches.The world as he understood it broke apart. He clutched onto Shiro as Shiro used the blanket to pull him up and across the bed before Keith struggled out of it. Suddenly he needed much less layers. He wanted nothing between them.

"Keith," Shiro's nipped at his earlobe, teeth drawing lines of heat across Keith’s skin as he mouthed lower on Keith’s neck.

Keith threw his head back as Shiro's hands plunged easily down the back of his loose pyjama pants. He tried not to focus on just how much of his ass they could cup. He pressed his lips to Shiro's neck, shuddering, wanting to reciprocate, but it was almost too much to just hold on.

Keith tensed as Shiro's fingers traced lightly down the cleft of his ass, hovering just short of where Keith desperately wanted them. Shiro drew back slightly, so that he could search Keith’s face. He looked just as disoriented as Keith felt, and Keith leaned up, happy to try to kiss that away. Shiro let him for a moment, seeming to draw back from the absolute carnal edge, managing to speak, although his voice was low. "We need..." Shiro stopped, confused. Something struggled behind his eyes. "Lube?" he asked, like it was a strange question.

Through his daze, Keith realized that they're actually going to do this. "Uh. Bathroom," he muttered, ears burning bright with the admission. His mind felt foggy and slow. Keith swallowed, not sure where his brain function had disappeared to.

 

* * *

 

Shirtless on his return, Shiro dropped the lube and sat at the head of the bed, back resting against the wall. He patted his lap, invitingly. "Come here."

The request was enough to spur Keith in action. He abandoned his blanket and crawled up to Shiro. Shiro guided Keith up the rest of the way, hands demanding as he helped Keith straddle his lap. Shiro's human fingers felt so hot against his stomach as they traced around the top of his pyjama pants. "How can I help you if you're wearing these?" Shiro teased.

He wanted this so badly. Keith leaned his weight into Shiro as he squirmed free from his clothing. He pressed forward, rocking his hips more than necessary, hearing the way Shiro held his breath at the close contact, the way Shiro's fingers locked tightly onto Keith's hips. And Keith knew he wasn't the only one desperate for more.

"Acting like a needy omega..." There was a note of teasing in Shiro's voice. There was a distant part of Keith's mind that rebelled against the label, but it was so far away. "Should I take you like one?"

"Yes," Keith answered immediately. He couldn't think. There should be a sense of shame somewhere, but it wasn't anywhere nearby. Keith leaned forward, curling so that he could press his face into Shiro's neck. "Still smell so good," he murmured, nuzzling into the scent gland. Shiro's breath hitched.

"You too, baby," he turned, and Keith gasped as teeth lightly scraped over his own neck. He dug his fingers into Shiro's chest. More, his brain demanded.

Shiro was distracted with the lube, and Keith's anticipation was going to short-circuit his limited brain functions. He smoothed his hands across Shiro's pecs. Almost of his own accord, his hips started rising and falling. There was only Shiro's pants between them. And he already knew what the soft fabric was hiding. Could feel that Shiro was ready for him, too.

Shiro steadied Keith, thumb digging in against his hipbone. Shiro's other hand traced over his ass again, slippery this time. Keith held his breath. Keith gritted his teeth as Shiro applied pressure, but instead of the expected pain, his body melted into the sensation. "Yes," Keith repeated the simple word over and over. He felt boneless as he collapsed onto Shiro's shoulder, letting Shiro hold him up as his body went pliant.

"Maybe two?" Shiro asked with amusement. "You take it so well..."

Keith moaned and nodded against Shiro's shoulder. He brought his arms up, wrapping them tightly around Shiro's neck.

He pushed back as Shiro added an extra finger. "Feel better?" Shiro said, something teasing in his voice again. Keith nodded again.

"I think you've been hiding something..." Shiro crooned.

Keith shook his head, not sure how anything that he'd been doing could possibly count as hiding."Nuh-” It was hard to think. The hand from his hip moved to stroke his back. Shiro's hands felt so good.

"Mmm-hmm," Shiro placated.

Shiro's fingers stroked at his body. Keith shivered, literally trying to hold on. He stiffened. "There," he gasped, as if he didn't hear Shiro's pleased noise. Shiro focused on that spot, long lines of heat building in Keith's body at the attention. Keith drew away a little, his blurring vision noting absently the transparent precum stretching from his aching cock to Shiro's abs as he stared down. He wasn't really seeing though, he was lost to the building sensation. He shifted against Shiro, leaning their foreheads together. He pressed soft, distracted kisses into Shiro's lips, aching for a deeper connection.

"I'm ready," Keith whispered, bringing his thumbs up to stroke Shiro's cheekbones.

Shiro's gaze was distracted, but he searched Keith's face and returned the soft kiss. "Not yet," he replied, cryptically.

Keith's eyebrows drew together and he was about to protest when Shiro pressed harder. Something almost seemed to shift inside him, and he dropped his hands to grab onto Shiro's shoulders at the sudden sensation of heat and release from deep inside.

Keith’s eyes widening with a bright edge of panic. There was something leaking between his legs - far more than the lube would account for. He froze. He silently screamed his anxiety at Shiro, who was making pleased soothing sounds at him. Nothing hurt… but… terrified, he slipped a hand between his legs, feeling himself stretched around Shiro’s unmoving fingers. Keith raised his hand, fingers smeared with something clear.

Shiro gave a breathy hum while Keith just stared at his own hand between them.

And then Shiro’s mouth was hot and wet on his fingers and Keith melted at the feeling of his tongue and those sounds Shiro was making. Shiro’s tongue slipped between his fingers, forcing them to spread slightly, and Keith’s stomach lurched. Shiro was too good with his mouth. This was impossible. Shiro’s tongue played around his fingertips.

Even as he soared with the sensation of Shiro’s mouth, Keith remained wide eyed. In shock. This shouldn’t be happen. Only omegas could produce…

But he’d known something far more powerful than his will was rising inside his mind.

Lust beat down the rising confusion, even as Keith’s chest heaved with the internal battle. Desire dulled most of the implications. Whatever tentative hold Keith had on sanity stretched painfully thin.

His other hand clutched at the bedsheets as he tried to physically anchor himself to the bed, to this reality. He needed more. A thousand and one ideas flashed through his mind, none of them helpful. Oh god. He was hard; hard and the room was blurring and he just _needed_ – needed more than the wet heat of Shiro’s mouth around his fingers, needed more than Shiro’s fingers inside him.

Shiro drew back and Keith shivered at the thought of what that sensation could do elsewhere. He pressed a gentle kiss into Keith’s fingertips before lowering Keith gently to the bed.

"I can show you what you need..." Shiro said, voice gone rough.

Keith licked his lips, half-lost already. “I want….” There was something just out of reach, some idea that was irritating him, just out of focus. He _wanted_.

"You're already so ready, so good, Keith, and you didn't even know, did you?" Shiro leaned back. Shiro’s hands felt so good as he adjusted their positions.

Keith practically melted, body growing pliant as Shiro spread his legs. There was a moment when the thoughts seemed almost foreign. He was aching, and the easy way that Shiro could overpower him seemed an exotic pleasure. His heart pounded, so ready to just be taken.

Shiro's hands stroked gently up his thighs, thumbs pulling gently at their apex, drawing the muscles apart. Keith hid his eyes in his elbow. He couldn’t look. It was too much. He was too exposed like this. He bit back the impulse to whimper. That wasn’t him. It just wasn’t him.

With the slick his body was producing he didn’t need much more prep, but Shiro seemed to enjoy teasing him. Shiro worked gently but relentlessly, fingering Keith into a pleading mess until Keith couldn’t take it anymore.

Keith sat up, throwing his arms around Shiro and catching him with an open-mouthed kiss. Desperate and clutching, he dragged Shiro back down to the bed with him, nails digging into Shiro’s back. He let Shiro swallow his pleading, and stole back some sense of control by claiming Shiro’s mouth as his own, teeth and tongue striving to memorize every curve, every texture.

Keith’s hips ground down against Shiro’s fingers, edging himself closer to a release that seemed to stay just out of reach. He broke the filthy kiss as Shiro withdrew, keening with regret and suddenly feeling so empty. Shiro’s tongue licked over Keith’s upper lip, following with a chaste kiss that muffled Keith’s cries. Keith rocked his lower body against Shiro, blindly seeking an intimate friction. He sucked Shiro’s lower lip into his mouth, trying for more, but...

It took Keith a moment to realize Shiro’s attention was elsewhere. A sudden comprehension made Keith freeze. Shiro was holding himself, stroking his cock through the slickness. With each stroke Keith could feel it pause over the spot where he wanted it, the pleasure vibrating through his body and making him hold his breath in tiny hitches before Shiro slipped past, teasing without penetrating. When Shiro paused his slow thrusts, Keith was ready to go out of his mind, everything he wanted was so close. “Yes,” Keith hissed, shutting his eyes tight. He didn’t want to beg. _He wanted to beg._

Shiro pressed forward, stretching Keith around his tip. This was exactly what Keith wanted. With a relief that pulled tears to his eyes, Keith gasped against Shiro’s lips as he felt him sink in past his tight muscles. Shiro drew back and Keith protested, nails digging in harder. But Shiro kept working at him slowly, until the swollen crown no longer made Keith tense up as he pushed inside. Eventually he stroked forward, slipping in deeper as Keith relaxed. Shiro’s shaky breathing belied his appearance of total control.

“Shiro…” It just took the one word, and Shiro was blanketing his body, hands stroking down Keith’s arms, prying the fingers from the sheets and interlocking their fingers instead. Holding him close, Shiro began to move.

Keith’s body was in bliss.

Lax with pleasure, Keith let his hands relax and he softened, mellowing back into the mattress. He tilted his head back, and felt Shiro curl his body more tightly. The play of muscles beneath his hands, between his thighs… he watched to remember each rippling moment, every thrust.

Shiro’s breath was hot on his collarbone, body contorting so that he could lick and nip at the skin Keith was displaying. Keith freed a hand to lazily draw it through Shiro’s hair, keeping Shiro near his scent gland.

Keith couldn’t help but writhe. He was so close… “Bite me,” Keith whispered his demand, the idea that he wanted to be marked as Shiro’s strong in his mind. Shiro groaned and opened his mouth. Keith felt the blunt press of teeth, but it wasn’t enough. Shiro held back from making a true mark.

Keith twisted, kissing Shiro’s forehead absently as he reached between them to stroke himself. He squirmed between his fingers and Shiro, driven nearly to oversensitization already. Shiro’s mouth against his scent gland was perfection.

He was starting to feel like Shiro was going to split him open. He tightened his fist around himself, moved faster, chasing that orgasmic edge where pain became pleasure.

“It’s too much,” Keith mumbled, as if Shiro’s growing knot wasn’t incredible, making lights dance across the back of his eyelids.

“You can take it, baby,” Shiro said, easily confident as his strokes shortened, keeping himself buried deep in Keith.

The pressure was getting intense. Keith’s nails scraped lines across Shiro’s back, making Shiro flex against him, thrusting deeper in response. Keith felt like he couldn’t hold still with it all, he writhed against Shiro and the mattress, feeling Shiro settle more weight onto him, pinning him in place.

Knotting him.

The force of his orgasm surprised him, and Keith felt suspended in time, launched over that blissful edge before he’d expected, heels jerking up to wrap around Shiro, fastening them together as his body contracted in liquid pleasure.

Keith blinked rapidly, trying to clear the stars from his eyes. At each rapid pant his chest pressed up into Shiro. As the glow faded from his eyes it took some of that hazy, overpowering desire with it. And Keith began to realize...

Oh god.

_No._

What had he… Keith jerked back, but he was pinned between the mattress and Shiro, there was no where for him to move to. He started to panic.

“Shh,” Shiro managed, shifting his weight slightly so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles over Keith’s cheekbone.

Eyes white-rimmed, Keith couldn’t just settle into the tender touch. “Shiro!” He pulled his arms in, forcing space between the two of them, trying not to touch Shiro more than he… more than they...

Oh fuck.

Keith tried to squirm free from Shiro’s weight. As soon as he managed to jam a foot against the mattress to move, he gave a yelp of pain, drawing a punched out groan from Shiro.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, shh,” Shiro said, voice languid. “If you move too much this’ll…”

Keith collapsed back against the mattress. Right, knots.

Suddenly, Shiro’s body felt more like a trap. “Shiro?” Keith tried again. “We just…”

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed. “We did.” Shiro sounded content and lazy, at odds with the way he was carefully holding himself almost in a half-plank above Keith. Not like someone who’d just done something regretful.

Some of the tension eased out of Keith’s body. “Are… are you still in rut…?” Keith asked, cautiously.

“Um, I was slipping in and out... I’m marginally in control at the moment...” Shiro met Keith’s eyes and gave a small smile. Keith couldn’t help but mirror it. He wanted to lose himself in the tender look. Shiro’s smiles could almost make him feel weightless; and the way his stomach fluttered seemed completely out-of-place considering that they were still knotted together by what they’d just done.

Keith didn’t fully trust the soft moment. “Why didn’t you just let the rut burn itself out? Why are you holding back?” he pressed, searching Shiro’s face. There was the thought in his mind that if he kept questioning there might not be anything left for either of them to hide behind, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to know.

“Wanted to make sure it was good for you.” Shiro lowered more of his weight onto Keith, nuzzling against his hair. “Wanted to remember everything,” Shiro murmured against Keith’s forehead.

“What changed…?”

“You needed me.” Shiro paused. “It was overpowering…”

“I need you to not hate yourself for this…” Keith breathed.

Shiro went very still. “I’m sorry for what I said… before,” he finally admitted. “I hate that this is a part of me.” Keith nudged Shiro’s cheek with his nose, trying to get eye contact back, but Shiro resisted. His eyes were tightly shut. “I hate that my choices were taken away. I hate that I’ll never have a chance to start this right…”

Keith turned away, wrapping himself firmly around Shiro in a fierce hug. He didn’t have any useful answer.

“It’s something I want… but I didn’t want it to happen like this…” Shiro whispered. He let Keith hold him, their heartbeats the only movement in the room.

_It’s okay,_ Keith wanted to say, but the untruth died in his throat. He couldn’t erase any of the mistakes that had led them to this. “We can… work it out from here,” he promised, the best he could offer.

Shiro laughed softly. He shifted with the movement, and Keith hissed as Shiro’s softened knot slipped out. “Maybe starting in a day or two…” he stretched out on his side, pulling Keith in closer to him. “I’m going to rut again… I don’t know if I can hold it off next time you…” Shiro trailed off.

Keith eyes glazed over at thoughts of being absolutely destroyed. “I think I’ll be ok with that.” He didn’t want to admit his mouth was practically watering. The idea made his stomach clench, and he started to feel that needy sensation protesting that he was too empty. “I’m in heat,” Keith said, testing out the words as he said them aloud. It still didn’t feel real.

“You’re in heat…” Shiro repeated, stroking the hair away from Keith’s forehead. It was too easy to accept his casual intimacy.

Shiro managed to pull one of them blankets over them. Keith smiled when he realized it was one from Shiro’s own bed, the faint scent comforting; distracting him for a moment.

“...help make a proper nest next time…” Shiro was saying sleepily. “I’ll take care of you.” The promise was sealed with a kiss to the back of his head. Keith stroked gentle patterns into Shiro’s arms as his mind wandered. He could feel the need rising in him again, and he tried to chase it away, wanting to just stay in the quiet moment a little longer. “And before that…? Or if I don’t go into another heat and if you don’t rut? What then…?” Keith asked.

“We’ll figure that out.” Shiro’s arms tightened around him.

Keith pulled Shiro’s hand up, kissing it softly to try to chase away the stress his question caused. “We’ll figure it out,” he echoed. They’d find a way to make this situation their own. Here, wrapped in warmth it was easy to believe. They’d find a way to move forward.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> * * *
> 
> You can follow the progress of the A/B/O Zine on [Tumblr](https://abovoltronzine.tumblr.com/%20) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ABOVoltronZine).
> 
> (And you can always say hi to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HerPaintstrokes). <3 Thanks for reading!)


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